Leif merely raised his hands, surprised that something would cause Irene to pull herself away so abruptly when he was merely trying to help.
Was it offensive that he asked about it? He knew there were some things regarding the bloodline she came from that were out of his knowledge, but for her to be so horrified that he had asked about it at all was alarming to him.
"Ah, sorry I—"
"No, hold on," Irene interrupted him. "I haven't shown anyone this before. I just feel I will be misunderstood by those who aren't Sünstoian, that's all."
Her voice started harsh but finished more softly. She felt bad only sharing half-truths but she didn't know what to say.
"What does it mean?" he asked.
Irene's eyes dropped to her shoulder and she lifted her right hand to gently trace along the side of the tattoo. A faraway smile pulled at her mouth.
"My grandmother gave it to me," she explained. "It protects my soul and ensures that I am on the right path."
